Monster
by Chelsea J. Grinn
Summary: There is a monster in all of us, even in our heroes...RM/OC.
1. Sleeping With One Eye Open

I only danced for him. Not because he was so rich, and not because he scared me into it, but because he was a challenge. He wanted what he couldn't have, and didn't know what he had until it was gone. Underneath that mask, and that costume he was like every other twenty year old boy I knew, an absolute pig, and proud of it. But the problem with pigs are all too common. The slaughter house is where they end up, and if your not careful its where you will end up too.

That's how I got here. My pig brought me to be made into bacon. I'm sure it wasn't his first intention, but you can only fear the future. And we were living to fast in the moment to realize where it was taking us. I gave up my life for him. He manipulated me into what he wanted, and I went right along with the program. He turned me into my idolization. I became the perfect woman, not only to him, but to myself as well...and funny enough, I didn't hate him for that...I loved him for it.

But now as I felt the brass knuckles pound the side of my face I don't know if I was really that happy after all. I can feel the skin peel away from me with every blow, and I can feel us unapologetic eyes on me as he screams for them to stop. He says he loves me, and to kill him instead. Liars get me wet.

I think back to those days. They days that ate me up. I was waiting for life to present itself to me, and then he walked in. The red lights made the black on his costume glow purple. He sat in the front row, he came by himself, his black hard eyes staring at me as I danced. I looked him in the eye.

Ever girl is told that they have to make eye contact, make them feel like you are only dancing for them...but I really was only dancing for him. He had me. Not a single dollar was dropped on the stage by any other man. His side smile made me wild, and just as I flipped upside down on the pole at the end of my routine, he laid seven one hundred dollar bills on stage.

I dismounted, and walked over to say thank you to him. As I leaned over he grabbed my wrist and pulled me in. he whispered to me, but all I can feel now against my ear aren't his words or his lips, just the terrifying feeling of blood oozing from my head.

I open my eyes and look over. My lover is staring at me. Tears streaming down his face. The black of his eye make up had left marks on his face. I spit a trail of blood from my mouth. My costume was stained with blood now. It was torn and ripped. I gave out a big sigh.

He was still screaming. But now he was screaming that he loved me. I don't know if it was the head trauma, but his screams made my ears bleed. I cried...I cried like I never had before. But my tears were false, they were instinctual, I didn't mean them. I couldn't handle him anymore. The terrified nature that his screams took would send a chill down any normal human being's spine, but for me, I was numb to it. I was numb to fear now, I was numb to the humanity of fear. I had given up my fear, my one vice, ages ago.

It was necessary to give it up if I was to become the me of today. I could barely remember what it felt like to not be on an adrenaline high. I had become so numb, that fear was just a theory now, it was what was supposed to happen to me in this situation, but it just wasn't happening, and I knew it never would. The only thing that would happen is anger. I tried to scream, or talk or anything, but I couldn't say a fucking word. I refused to acknowledge that I wasn't human anymore.

I was a corpse. I was a zombie, dancing along. My craving for pain and suffering, the lust for blood was comparable of a hunger for brains. But instead of being the undead, I was living, I wasn't a zombie, just a sociopath. It was my curse, my 'infection'.

My arm was broken now. But like it mattered. We would be out of here soon...in body bags, or from their own stupidity, I was guessing the latter, but as of right now, he and I were here...but then I saw an opening as a green baton hit me in the face.

Skin ripping off, blood pouring out...and I cant feel a thing.


	2. Just Like A Pack Of Wolves

I feel your hands on me. It makes me want to scream, but nothing will come out, but yet again...I'm not really trying. I look down as you beat me. Purple scaring my vision. I can feel her anger, I can feel her hate, I absorb it. I love it, I embrace it. I remember when a knuckle duster across the face hurt, now it was just energy to me. It was a laughable action. With every swing I absorbed her. She was becoming her own downfall.

I see a smile creep over her face. She enjoys this, its what she lives for. It is what I live for as well. You know she and I aren't really that different, I remember those days. Chris and I would go out and deal out some of the old 'ultra violence'. I loved the feel of their blood. I saw myself in slow motion, my yellow and black costume, the fabric covers my breasts, ass, and cunt, but not much else. Its more like a bathing suit, yellow lined with black. Its covered in blood. I draw a black gloved hand back, my shiny black brass knuckles glisten with blood. My face is contorted into anger, I can feel it flow through me.

I'm on my knees, my black thigh high boots are protecting me from the pavement as this kid screams for help. I punch him in the face, breaking his jaw, he can no longer scream. My black hair is coated with blood as I rise from my massacre.

"Well done...Slut Face..." Chris says from behind me as I look down. All I can see is blood, all I can see is years of anger released on an innocent kid. The feeling should have made me sick, but it got me off. I turned to chis, lifted his mask, and kissed him.

"What...what are you doing?" his words were tangled in the air.

"Just shut the fuck up..." I growled at him.

I threw him against the wall, rubbing myself against him, I felt him get hard, I ripped that stupid costume off, his length was pressed against me, I pulled the crotch of my costume to the side and rubbed myself against him. He shuttered in pleasure. He pushed his way into me. I yelled out in pleasure. It was gross, and dirty, angry and terrifying, but it was amazing, I pulled my costume open to reveal my breasts. Chris's eyes acted like they had never seen them before. He comes in me. I shiver at the feeling. It makes me feel powerful.

I'm slightly embarrassed when the feeling wears off. This is not what I had planned for. I get up from the sidewalk, and pull the closure of my costume back together, once again hiding my shame. I cant look at him, the feeling would be like death. I walk away, leaving my pride and that kid murdered and blood soaked in the alleyway.

But blood soaked has no meaning to me now. My costume is no longer yellow, its red, a deep crimson, its a sign of my failure, but also of my impending success. A butterfly knife traced over my skin, it was dug into my shoulder. I didn't even wince.

My lover sat there, crying, terrified. As the tears rolled down my face, I took it. All I had to keep myself alive were the flashbacks of the better times. They walked from the room. They are tired. I looked over to Chris, my voice wouldn't work, but I said everything I needed to with my eyes. The tears streamed down his face, I could see the remorse in the broken bones. I wanted to touch him, that's what I missed in this moment, the feeling of him against me.

I missed the love making, the kisses. I missed the sick and tormented relationship we created for ourselves. He was beautiful. Maybe not right now, but neither was I. Chris's eyes were fluttering. I hoped he wouldn't die over the night. I couldn't afford to loose him. He was my anything and everything.

I was told once that life is all fate, that we as humans can do nothing about it. But I think that is bullshit. If life is anything its a string of choices. With each choice we are given, everything becomes more and more complicated. Our choices become intertwined, and tangled and eventually we die, that matted knotted web that we created for ourselves falls to pieces, and we are left with nothing.


	3. Our Legs Begin To Break

Finally a scream resonates through my body. It feels good. It feels like success. I can feel the blood run down my back, I breath heavily. The gash that she made in my side is excruciating when I never thought it would be. Maybe because its how I was woken up. That's probably it. They caught me off guard. I feel cold and sopping wet. The blood from last night has cooled, but not dried.

Chris's chair is now in front of me. His head hangs limp. He is asleep. I see a tan leather gloved hand reach out from his side holding a dagger.

"No." the first word I had said since this mess began. My voice was full of terror, I was weakening, and they knew it.

The dagger is plunged into his side. He is jolted awake. He screams with ever fiber of his being, a scream that terrifies me. He screams and screams and screams. He writhes in his chair. He whines in agony. The wire rope and chains that binds me cuts into my flesh at last. I cry. Instinct.

The girl has me. She laughs as I hang my head and try to cope with the pain. I try to think back, to when I was happy but I feel sick, I can't focus. I vomit on myself. They laugh at me. They laugh at me like I'm some sort of loser. But they forget what I can do, and what I have done.

The first week in this life. I was with Chris. We were busy playing superhero. He and I took on some rip off heroes. I can barely remember their names, but who cares, they were nobodies. They were two guys. Big, fat, and slow. We came across them in an alley way, they were comparing costumes. What fucking losers.

"Hey, what do you think of mine?" I asked, my voice shaking from nervousness.

They looked at me with awe. I withdrew my hook swords and showed off a little, I spun myself around them, stopping to make eye contact. I ended with plunging the hook of one of my swords into the stomach of one of them. Red Mist was right behind me, he ran up to the other and smashed his face to bits.

Both of them got back to their feet and charged us. I took one down immediately. Slicing his jugular. He bled out quickly. The second was slightly faster, Red Mist and I double teamed him. After a fair beating I took the pointed back end of my swords and jammed it into his heart. At that moment, it felt like the muscle and bone separated just for me. The end of my sword slid like a hot knife through butter through the mans chest. He blinked, his face was confused. I laughed, it was like a child's, sweet and sinister. I punched him in the face with the blade on the handle.

I looked down on him. I felt good. I looked over to Chris. He was pleased. He hugged me. His touch made my heart jump. I turned red under my mask. We walked to his car and hopped in. we drove home. It was one of the best nights of my life. I was so happy, it felt like I had a place in this world. Like everything was working for me.

But I was naïve. I realize that now as I see him get beaten to a pulp before me. He cries out for me, his voice hoarse and tired.

"Niki," he says as he looks to me.

"Chris." I say back, I can barely will the words from my mouth.

"Aw how cute." she hits me in the face, with a bare fist now.

It looks like I'm crying blood.

I shake my head, blaming myself for this situation. His face gets hit by another green baton. I wince when I hear the shattering crack. The baton is broken, but there is always a back up. He cusses, and walks out the door.

"Your sweetheart has one tough face." she says as she walks to my side. He looks up to her. His brow furrowed, his jaw broken, he scowls at her. Blood dripping from his slack jaw open mouth.

"Fhuk yewh sunt." he spits through a broken mouth.

"I barely even understood you...fucking stupid boy." he says as she leans over me.

"I have no idea what you see in him." her sneer is priceless.

I hate myself. I want to headbutt her, but I know the repercussions. I'm a coward.


	4. You Better Beg For Mercy

I can hear our laughter. Its not evil or maniacal. It was happy. I was happy here, in this thought. The wind was whipping through our hair. We walked with no masks, we were just Niki and Chris. Just happy. It was cold and the sidewalk was unforgiving. We carried our McDonalds with heads held high. Our generation was far to worried about calories, and working out. We were free of that. We had each other. But we didn't know that our freedom was a curse.

He pulled me into an alley way. He wrapped his arms around me. I shivered against his touch. He kissed me. My mind exploded. I giggled, and he pulled away, a smile lacquered his face. I ran my hands through his perfect hair. The dark brown locks were soft and tempting. I smiled at him.

I had a soul here. In this second, my soul, it burned brightest. As I sit now, I wish that I still had that. I had lost so much. I was a shattered shell of a woman. I looked to Chris, and in an attempt of humanity I spoke.

"I love you." my voice was hoarse and cracked. I was weak.

Seconds later brass knuckles grazed my face.

"Shut up bitch." his voice was strong and angry.

I had reached my boiling point.

"Fuck you..." I said quietly.

Everything went silent, Chris looked up at me, he was covered in blood, his jaw still broken and so was his cheekbone. He was perpetually crying. And if I had been more human I would have realized that I was too...I had never stopped because I knew how this would end.

I decided that now was a good time to die after all. So I let my words fly like bullets. I let it be know that he was a nobody, a fucking loser, and that at this moment he, my torturer, was a shit superhero.

"Your more of a villain that I am..." I said at last.

I braced for impact, or a slice of my throat. I even looked to Chris, with my eyes I said I was sorry, that I loved him, and always will. And he looked back. He understood.

But instead of death, all I felt was the cold steel fall free from my body. I was pushed from the the chair, I landed face first on the cold concrete. My body was weak, but I was still able to turn over in time to see him fall into me. The tan gloves hands held me down, I screamed for Chris in my broken voice but he was still chained up.

"I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson bitch." the voice made me ill.

He pulled my blood soaked costume aside. He forced himself into me. Chris was screaming for him to stop. I felt so sick in this position. My torturer thrust into me. Angry tears streamed down my face. I tried to move my broken arm. But all I felt was a searing pain.

He pulls out. He comes on the floor. I feel sick to my stomach. I want to kill myself, but I'm to scared to move. He pulls me up as the other walks in.

"What happened here?" her voice cracks through the air.

"Taught her a lesson." he said glancing to the floor.

"Wow, your an asshole." she said grinning.

I was put back into my chain. Chris was staring at me. He was irate. I could tell that if he wasn't chained up, and most of his bones weren't broken he would go ape shit on him.

Blood trickled down my leg. I was raw. I screamed and cried until I coughed up blood. I felt used like I never had before. I tried to go back to me and Chris in the alley. He kissed my nose, and hugged me close. I looked up to Chris.

"I luff ew." he said. His jaw was mangled. But I could hear the love in his voice. It make me want to die.


	5. I Want To Sink My Teeth Into All Of You

Chris and I were in separate rooms now. I was so scared for him. Now that I couldn't see him, I couldn't keep myself calm. I hated not knowing what was happening with him. My mind was wrecking over it. Then the door opened. She walked in.

"Well now that we have you and your boy separated, we can finally get some answers..." her voice was cruel for someone so young.

"I don't know anything." I lied. She could tell.

"Don't bullshit with me...honey." I hated her so much.

"What do you want to know?" I asked, playing along.

"You know..." I was silent

"Well then maybe I should remind you who is in charge here Babycakes..." she trailed off as she pulled out her butterfly knife.

She walked to me, and slit open the top of my forearm. I writhed in pain...it hurt there...bad.

"So...what do you know about my father?" she asked.

"Nothing! Fucking nothing I swear!"I cried out as she cut two more lines in my arm.

"Well I would tell you but it would be a waste." she reared back to hit me in the stomach.

"No! No please!" I cried out.

She looked skeptical. She looked at me with a confused look. Her confusion slowly turned to realization. She smiled and sat in the chair opposite mine.

"So are we starting our own little bastard bakery?" she grimaced when saying it.

"What?" I yelled out. I was getting irritated.

She rose from the chair, walked to me and slapped me.

"You're stupid." is all she said. She walked away from me and out the door.

I spent the night in that room. I could barely sleep, there was no one to talk to. My mind kept wondering to Chris.

If I tried really hard I could see him, but as fast as I could picture his face, it was gone. He would disappear. I would scream out and cry. From what I remembered, I probably screamed for hours. I cried and screamed out his name. I knew he was screaming back...but I just couldn't hear it. My mind fluttered from image to image, I remembered when he and I were training, I cut myself with one of my sword.

"Oh, come on...come here its OK..." he soothed me.

I slowly walked to him. Tears welling up in my eyes. I didn't want to cry, but back then I was still fully aware of my humanity.

"I'm so stupid." I whispered out as a tear fell from my cheek onto his arm.

"No your not, come here, let me have a look..."

I had cut myself on my shoulder. A blade had gotten just a little to close. and torn a massive gash in me.

"Oh Niki, its going to be OK...its not that bad." he said. His voice was more kind than usual.

I pulled myself into a hug. With him. He wrapped his arms around me. He walked me over to the bench in the corner of the room, and had me sit.

"God, I'm an idiot." I said as I wiped the tears away from my eyes.

"Nah, I've had worse." he reassured me.

"I don't believe that." I laughed.

But his laugh was cut short. I head the door slam. She was back...for more apparently. And now with her friend.

I tried to pull myself together. But it was a futile effort.

"Whats with the new drug problem? Crime has been skyrocketing and I know that you and Red Mist are behind this." he said to me.

I stayed quiet and reserved. But that didn't work.

"Your man talked." she said to me across the room.

I raised my eyes to her, and spit in her face.


	6. Dead Hands Clutch My Arm

All I felt was bones breaking. My cheekbone was a shattered mess. The blood dripped from the wound. The pain barely registered against the massive cracking sound. It started out numb, but quickly turned into a body consuming pain. It made me feel sick again. But this time I would give them no reason to laugh. I spat in her face again.

"Your a fucking liar." I growled.

She laughed and wiped the bloody spit from her cheek.

"Why would I lie to you? You must have already know that he was a Goddamn coward." she giggled as she looked to him. The smile creeping over his face.

I cursed under my breath. I hated her. She was arrogant, she was animalistic. She refused to give in when it came to anything. The similarities were terrifying. That one day resonated in my head...the day I regretted more than this one. It tormented me quite often...

Chris and I had been out all night. It was fun with him. We always had our way. This night was particularly fun for me. We went head to head with Kick-Ass and Hit Girl. While Hit Girl and I were actually engaged in combat, Chris and Kick-Ass were just in a school boy scuffle. I swung one of my swords at hit girl, I nicked her, but it was just a nick. I spun to my left as she charged me. She missed me with her butterfly knife, but I knew she wouldn't give up that easily.

She jumped on my back and stabbed me in the arm. I grunted in pain, but quickly pulled her off of me, and slammed her body into the pavement. She stabbed me in the arm again, but this time it wasn't so bad. Out of spite, I punched her in the face.

"What the fuck is with you, you little psycho?" I screamed out.

"Whats with you, Slutty McSlut-slut." she was laughing. I punched her in her mouth.

She stopped laughing. I grinned as she moaned out in pain. looked over, Chris was getting the shit beat out of him. I sighed and grabbed my swords.

I hit Kick-Ass across the back with the blade. It didn't phase him. He came at me with his batons. He got me good on the side of the face, it hurt so bad, the feeling tore me apart, I became weak, for a split second. He knocked the swords from my hands. He was coming at me. That was the moment of realization. I stepped back, and stuck my foot out. He tripped and fell. I heard teeth shatter. I saw a pool of blood form near his mouth on the pavement.

They were out of commission for the mean time. Hit Girl was still cradling the broken nose in her hands, attempting to get up, and Kick-Ass was on his knees, blood gushing from his mouth. I ran to Chris. I pulled him up.

"I fucking had it...you didn't need to intervene." he said as we fled the scene. The car was parked a mile away...we were walking.

"Well it sure as hell didn't seem like you had it covered. And your face says the same." I said, his arm around my shoulder.

"You know what Niki? I'm done with you fucking showing me up all the time. Id like to see how good you are with my gun in your face..." he was angry with me, he pulled the gun on me.

The anger fueled me. I punched him in his broken nose. I stole the gun from his hand, and turned it on him.

"So your done with me showing you up? Well then get better at this...fucking pussy-faggot." I whispered out as I dropped the gun on the ground.

I walked away, leaving him there on the sidewalk. My arm was throbbing, and so was my face, but the pain was my motivation for every step.

Three days later I showed up at Chris's building. I was covered in blood. I never changed my costume. My face was bruised and I was feeling exceedingly light headed. I threw up on his doorstep while he was surveying me. I managed a faint, _sorry_, right before I passed out. I woke in his bed, he was sleeping next to me. I curled up next to him. I could feel his heart beat under his muscle and ribs. It spoke to me.

_Niki...Niki...Niki..._ his heart cooed. He placed a hand on me.

"I love you...I'm sorry I took my anger out on you..." he spoke.

I smiled as she hit me across the face with his baton. The cracking sound was getting louder and louder with ever hit. I smiled one last time.

"Why don't you just fucking kill me?" I asked...my voice was full of tears.

They looked to each other. It was inevitable.


	7. I Refuse To Close My Eyes

I was too weak to fight. They unchained me and dragged me back to the first room. Chris was there. There massive gashes in his costume now, they hadn't been there before. I could see that the gashes were matched with ones in his skin. He looked at me.

When he saw me his eyes grew large. I guess my face really had taken a serious beating. He mumbled something but I count understand what he said, maybe they had drugged him...or maybe that was just because of his broken slacked jaw. It made me cringe. They threw me into the cold steel chair again. I hated this chair. It was silver, and covered in rust. The cushion had been ripped off some time ago, and all that was left was a seat of rust, and sharp little spikes that the fabric was supposed to be hooked into.

They chained me again. It would have been my chance but it felt futile, I needed a days rest...if they gave me that. I could feel myself wasting away. I couldn't remember how many days it had been, I wouldn't have known either. This room had no windows, it was completely sound proof, and terrifying, like something out of Hostel. Complete with shackles over there in the corner.

How we ended up in this mess was no mystery. As I recall my pig led me here...but I could never be angry with him for that. One little slip up is all it took. One drop of a knife, one missed swing with your fist, that's all it took.

That night was all but a blur to me. It was clear and crisp, like my memory had fully buffered, and was playing in 1080P. We fought them, a second time, Hit Girl, and Kick-Ass. But this time it was a trap. They were ready for this. The rising crime was too suspicious. They suspected us, and if we were the cause I would lay down and die. But we were not. We didn't know who was. But as it goes, they thought that we were plotting some crazy underground league of bad guys, when we were just out fucking shit up.

Our confrontation began. This time I had Kick-Ass. I guess because of me being a girl he pushed me even harder. He didn't want to be defeated by a woman. He wouldn't be. He hit me in the face, I was use to him hitting me now. I charged him, pulling out my swords. He dodged me, and I ran right into a brick wall. It felt strange, like something was wrong.

I looked to Chris. He was holding his own next to Hit Girl, but she wasn't throwing many punches, she was playing defense tonight. She didn't ever do that. I pulled my eyes from Chris, he seemed winded but I count afford to run to him now. I got to my feet, and walked towards Kick-Ass. He was standing there, a grin on his face. I dropped my swords, and put my fists up. He smiled, I punched, I was off center.

He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back until my shoulder was dislocated. I screamed out, Chris looked at me, he dropped his butterfly knife in shock. Almost immediately Hit Girl had him in her clutches. She held his blade to his throat. We had no choice but to follow. If I had know what would happen, I would have struggled, and gotten over the pain. But I never thought that the heroes could be the villains.

Back to reality. Chris was drained, I could tell that he wouldn't live much longer if he didn't get to a hospital soon. within twenty four hours he would die. My beating continued. Hit girl, and Kick-Ass laid in on me. I was hunched over. My back was taking most of the brutal beating.

Hit girl came over to me, she pulled my face up to hers, she spit on my face. But I didn't care, when you have nothing left of your humanity, much less your face, you begin to realize that our gestures of anger really don't mean much. She could have pissed on my face, and my anger would have stayed at an even keel.

They had us, they were determined to reek havoc on us the way we reeked havoc on this city. I had heard the story of what happened to her father. I felt her anger and rage. She had broken some fingers wailing on me. When I heard the cracks of her bone I smiled, the sound was still soothing, but then I heard one of my ribs break. The crack hurt.

I looked to Chris, his face was torn to pieces. He looked hopeless. We were hopeless.


	8. Twist The Knife, It Won't Last Forever

The hook swords had been a part of me for a while now. Chris was first to suggest them. They felt so good in my hands. The yellow grip on the black swords matched me perfectly. And not just my outfit, but my attitude as well. I had a tongue that could slice you in half, my wit was a blade of its own. My cut throat attitude had always cut its way through this world for me, until I couldn't find a job. That's when I went to stripping...

"This is all for you Dollface." hit girls words were brimming with disgust.

I saw the gleam of my hook sword. The yellow handle was more like brown now. The blade was covered in crusty blood. The rust color made me gag. That blood was not yet mine. It was Kick-Ass's. I remember slicing across the arm in our fight. The fight that took us to the depth and perils of depravity.

I could handle the abuse, I could feel and understand the anger. I could even understand the need to hurt, but what I didn't get was the torture aspect of this. They had broken my bones, and laughed as I cried, they had cut me to pieces, smiling as I screamed. I begged them for their mercy, but all they gave me was a knuckle duster across my face.

I stared at the sword. Kick-Ass had it in his hands. His tan gloves were smeared with blood. His green suit was speckled with my crimson regret. I looked to Chris. I wanted to scream. He had endured more than I had. He was stronger, he was better at this.

He stared to the floor. His lower jaw lifeless. From the start I knew that we would make it out of this, but at what cost? Would Chris be a vegetable forever. Would I ever look the same again? What were the repercussions to this? Our decisions-turn-mistakes would cost us. I was terrified, but for the first time I accepted a reality, a truth : we are who we make ourselves to be.

I had made myself into a psychotic, crazed, blood lusting individual. I wore a mask, and went around with a guy who wore a costume. I killed more people that I ever thought it would be, and it was out of rage. I did it because I was just so angry. Life had given me shit, so I was determined to made the world pay. To me, it would seem fitting to die here tonight. I knew what would happen.

Kick-Ass would come over, and in a blink of an eye, I would be gone. He would kill me in front of Chris, the ultimate punishment for everything Red Mist had done. He would force him to watch. He would make him watch me as I bed out, trying to squeak out my last goodbyes, my last 'I love you'. Chris would scream out, he would muscle through the pain of a broken jaw, the blood loss and the superficial damage that these past few days had done. And then they would kill him, a bullet to the head means 'The End'.

I knew this. It was obvious. I cried to myself. I knew that what I had made myself into was my own downfall. I had thought at one time as a green baton hit me across the face that I wold make a way out of this for us, but it just felt useless. But there was something in me that kept hope, well up until the hook sword was placed on my chest.

It tore across my skin. Cutting ever so perfectly into my chest. The first cut was like hell. It tore and ripped. I screamed. The pain was just numbing. The feeling of being numb was what suffocated me. I looked up. I could feel the hot blood roll down my skin. The feeling was surreal. I cussed out. Chris looked at me. He tried to comfort me, but I couldn't be. Hit Girl and Kick-Ass laughed at me.

"Alright, time of the finale..." Kick-Ass whispered into my ear.

I braced for the sword to cut my throat, but instead I felt his hands pull apart my costume. Exposing me. Terror laced my voice.

"What-what are you doing?"

He didn't answer, but even if he had...I wouldn't have heard it over my screams. He cut my breasts down the sides, I was in shock, did they really just do this? The blood drained from me. I cried and screamed, my body was no longer awaiting death, peaceful and quick, my body was shaking, the anger and pain welled in me. I looked down. A clear glossy liquid drained from the gashes. The salt infused water burned me, I writhed in the chair.

The bastard had exposed me. Exposed my shame. Exposed who I really was. A cheap slut in a cheap life. I hear myself throw every vulgarity in the book at him. I hurled my anger at him.

"I knew it." I heard Hit Girl say.

"Fuck!" Kick-Ass exclaimed out of disappointment.

"You owe me twenty bucks now." She insisted, laughing.

I looked to them. My broken bones and torn skin was nothing compared to this. I looked to them, tears in my eyes, blood and saline pouring from my massacred body.

Hate was my only emotion now. And I was wiling to use it to my advantage.

**Sorry for the delay guys! I was on vacation, and couldn't take my computer. But now that I'm back, I will continue posting every day!**


	9. Your Blood, My Hands

The hours passed in silence. Chris and I had once again been moved so we were sitting next to each other. Like a king and queen of blood and broken bones. We did not speak. Chris was asleep, or passed out. I would look to him every now and then, making sure his chest was still rising. It was, but just barely. It hurt me to see him like this. He was just a kid, I was just a kid.

We were kids who took playing 'dress-up' way too far. Cosplay at its best, but real. We just wanted some fun, we just wanted to fuck some shit up, but our fun backfired. I tried to rest, I tried to retain my strength, but I was feeling more and more useless. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't even feel them. My face was numb and broken.

I looked down. My chest was ripped to pieces. I cursed myself the sickness of my slashed skin rose in my throat. The bile burned as it spilled like ash on the floor. I cried as I gagged, it woke Chris. He looked to me. His broken face was tormented behind the swelling and blood. I looked away. Seeing him like this was to much. I remembered his dorky smile, and his gentle lisp. His laugh ricocheted through my head. Now he was just a broken and battered shell of what he use to be.

At that moment, I heard someone stumbling around outside the door. Keys jingled, the lock turned. My body grew tense. I knew that this was it. Kick-Ass stumbled into the room. He was holding a bottle of booze, it had about a quarter left in the bottom. I looked at him. He was wasted. Hit Girl walked in behind him. Together they acted like the were brother and sister. She slowly pulled the bottle from his hands, and placed it on the floor. She helped him up after he fell, and walked him over to Chris and myself.

"Shit, come on..." she said out of irritation.

He eventually was able to stand on his own, willing himself to sober up. He punched me across the face. I welcomed the pain, it made me more and more angry. He laughed, and looked to Hit Girl.

"Is it time?" he asked, speech slurred.

She nodded. He walked up behind me, and placed my own sword to my throat. But he hesitated. I was trembling. Chris was staring at me, disbelief in his eyes. Tears streaming down.

"Lets try this instead..." Kick-Ass said.

I felt the chains rattle, they dropped to the floor, and so did I. My face crushed against the cold concrete again. I moaned out in pain. I felt the end coming as he dragged me in front of Chris. He got me on my knees, my head in Chris's lap.

"I should make you give it to him...one last time you fucking slut." he said.

My body was free. My body was free of the chains, and that chair, at this moment I was free. I looked up to Chris's, his eyes were hopeless.

"I luff ewe." were his last words to me.

I cried. I repeated it to him...and this time...I really meant it. The cold dirty sword came across my throat. I winced at it. He pressed it to me, and for a split second I welcomed the feeling of death, I wanted it to engulf my body, pulling me under, until there was nothing left of me, but ash.

But then, that feeling vanished, as I felt the cut, the surge of adrenaline was like bringing me back to life. I had to much to life for...I had too much to give up.

I raised my head, and looked to Chris, "I'm going to make things right again."

The words I uttered were lost in an unholy massacre. I quickly pulled myself upright, got to my feet, and faced Kick-Ass. I gave him a second to let my eat-shit-and-die look to sober him up. He pulled his last baton from his back. He charged me, I kicked him in the chest.

He fell to the floor, gasping for air, but soon he regained his composure. I came towards him, stealing his knuckle duster off the floor from the corner of the room. I punched him in the face, my fingers breaking, and blood gushing. I continued over and over, he was screaming, Hit Girl was trying to get at me, she pulled a butterfly knife, and jabbed it in the tenderness of my back. I turned and beat her like she had beaten me, with a smile on my face, and hysterical laughter.

She was incapacitated for the moment, my attention was on Kick-Ass. He hit he heard on the back with his baton, breaking ribs. I turned, and saw my hook swords, I dashed for them. They felt amazing in my hands. I faced him as he ran to me. I stepped to the side, and hooked him across the middle, I slammed him into the ground, blood pouring from his stomach. The blood was draining out of him faster than I thought it would have. I felt someone punch me from the back, I turned just as Hit Girl punched my in the face.

"Bitch!" I yelled out, and tackled her. I began beating her into a frenzy, she screamed for Kick-Ass, but he was too busy bleeding on the ground. I hit her until she stopped screaming.

"Don't let that pain and anger consume you...its your downfall..." I whispered to her as her breathing became more and more labored.

I stood, and kicked her in the head, I heard a crack. I looked to Kick-Ass, he was laying lifeless a foot away. I walked to him, and beat him more brutally than anyone in this world could. All the pain and suffering from my life had been built up in me for this very moment. I beat him, even after I was sure he was dead. I screamed, and cussed, and unleashed every emotion I had on him.

Blood blurred my vision. The red was everywhere...I ran to Chris, unchained him, and tried to get him to stand, but it was useless, they had broken his legs. He crumpled to the ground. I screamed out, the noise ripping my throat. He was laying there, an inch from death, and I was useless.

Hours later I found myself in the bathroom. It had been torn to pieces. There was water spraying all over me, the red water washed from my body, and for the first time in however long...I saw my body. It was torn and cut. My memories came rushing back. I had just murdered two people, the heroes of New York City. I would be an enemy of the world.

I took a piece of shattered porcelain, and held it to my own throat. The only way out of this was death, I understood now why they would kill me, but just as I began to cut into myself, I pussied out...I couldn't do it...his eyes...I had to see those eyes...


	10. Nail The Casket One More Time

The lump in my stomach grew. I had been terrified after that night. I stripped Chris and myself down. Our costumes would be a dead give away. As I undressed myself I didn't even give all the broken bones and bright neon purple bruises a passing thought. I slipped on some underwear, a sports bra, and a white tank top. I turned my attention to Chris. I pulled of the torn costume. The slashed leather was coated in dried blood and sweat.

I looked in his eyes, they were ready to die. I could see the light, that glint of life slowly filter out of him. It scared me to see him so helpless. Somehow I pulled a pair of pants on him, that's all he needed. The blood was staining my shirt and underwear now. As I realized this, I felt my body growing more and more weak.

I was shaking as I dragged him from the penthouse into the elevator. In my adrenaline fueled state I was able to pick myself off of that bathroom, hooked Chris's arm around me, and drag him home. Thank god they didn't take us far, I would have collapsed in the middle of the street and both would have died.

I got him in the car, my shaking hands could barely steer. We made it to the hospital, I pulled Chris out, and pulled him to the hospital doors. Just as I made my way to the white light my body finally quit. I collapsed half way through the emergency room doors.

When I woke I way laying in a hospital bed, they had so many things attached to me that I couldn't even move. Before I knew it, there were nurses and doctors at my side. They were checking me, giving me the once over, I felt like a fucking child.

"We need to talk." a man in scrubs said to me.

I nodded, I couldn't talk.

"There's something I need to tell you...your-" I stopped him.

"I know..." I squeaked out.

The funerals were held together. Closed casket. White roses cut into my corneas. Purity. Everyone was crying when they shouldn't be. No one cried over me, no one cried for me when I was beaten an inch from death. They got off easy, it was harder to live with the memory, than to die.

I walked into the funeral home, pushing Chris's wheelchair. His legs were still healing. The doctors said that the cuts would heal, and so would the broken bones, but the scars would resonate through his life. I wheeled him to the back, the funeral service was just starting, we sat through boo-hoo's, and passages from the bible. Two boys got up, and told everyone how good 'Dave' was, he was such a great person, a kind heart. I didn't have the courage to get up and yell that he had raped me, and then days later tried to kill me. I held my tongue, after all...I had done so much already.

After the service there was a brunch, everyone was mingling, and chatting up about Dave and 'Mindy'. Chris and I walked into the room, everyone looked to us, Chris called to the boys that had spoken earlier. I leaned their names were Marty and Todd. Marty introduced me to his girlfriend, Erica. We were chatting nicely until a girl walked up. Her mascara was running. Her tender brown curls draped over her shoulder just so. She was perfect...I hated her already.

"Oh, Niki, let me introduce Katie Deauxma, this was Dave's...girlfriend." Marty spoke to me.

My heart stopped.

"I-it's nice to meet you..." she coughed out under tears.

"You as well. I'm...sorry for your loss..." I willed out between my teeth.

"How did you know Dave?" her words were full of sorrow.

I wanted to vomit on her.

"Through Chris, they went to school together I believe." I said.

She looked down to Chris. Her sad eyes sweeping over him.

"I'm sorry about that mugging, it was all over the papers you know?" Katie said,

"Yes, I saw the story." I said.

We continued talking, much to my dismay.

"So Niki, you, and Chris, how did you meet?" her words cut me, I could feel Dave's hands on me...

"Through a friend." I said with a smile, and took a sip of my sprite.

She seemed confused about something as she looked me over.

"Niki, forgive me...but...are you...pregnant?" she asked

I stopped, and looked to my stomach, I was showing now.

Chris looked up at us.

In those moments in the bathroom, when I felt the urge to kill myself after I had brutally murdered two people, the only thing I could think of was seeing my children, mine and Chris's children. They would have his beautiful brown eyes. They would grow up with parents that loved, them, they would grow up privileged. They would be happy...I couldn't kill myself...I loved Chris, and I loved my unborn children...

"Well yes Katie, Chris and I are pregnant," I said with a huge spiteful smile, "We are going to be having twins..."

Her smile faded, shock devoured her.

I** just wanted to say thanks to TheNewFrontiersman**** for helping me with****t****his fic, without him, it would be nothing. I also want to say thanks to Splish92, thanks for always inspiring me to do more and more. And last I would like to thank the readers and everyone who reviewed, without you...this story would have never made it past the first chapter. **

**Also, I will be writing a new Kick Ass fanfic, I am unsure as of now what it will be called, but be on the look out, it will be coming out soon. **

**Thanks again, and I love you all!**


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